


Yucca

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fairly short, Get Together, Hurt/Comfort, I think there’s like four chapters or soemthing, Lance taking care of Keith, M/M, Sure that’ll work, The dog woke me the fuck up and my sister is having a shit day and scared me, This is not going to be a long drawn out thing, but he still suffers, for once I’m beating the shit out of someone who isn’t Lance, hurt keith, i have no idea what to call this, klance, so have some half edited angst, worried lance, yes I blatantly ripped this from Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-19 05:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20325874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Keith is stabbed during a battle and Lance tries to get him home safe.





	1. Chapter 1

Lance presses the wet cloth to Keith’s face, wiping away the sweat and dirt. His cheeks are flushed and mottled, the red garish against the ashen pallor of his skin. The wound on his chest bleeds sluggishly where he’s slumped against a rock. Lance didn’t know fear could be so exhausting but it’s been gripping him for hours now, claws sunk deep and refusing to let go. He feels like he’s walking the edge of a razor, waiting to slip, to be cut in half. The longer he goes without it happening the more strained his nerves grow until he feels like he’s been stripped raw with sandpaper. Every thought in his oversensitive mind leaves him shuddering and sick to his stomach. None of this feels real. 

“Hang on,” he whispers and Keith looks at him through bleary, feverish eyes, breathing heavy but shallow. Lance cups Keith’s cheek, lifting his head when it grows too heavy for him to hold on his own. 

Lance is exhausted. He’s been half carrying Keith for the better half of a day, trying to get him help. He thinks back to how they got here, to the battle and how Keith had been stabbed, right under the ribs, the two of them the last ones standing. The shuttle they’d taken down had been destroyed. Electrical interference interrupted their comms through the storm, leaving them stranded. When lightning had hissed and crackled through the air over their heads Lance had been forced to drag Keith from the battlefield. He’d found a shallow ledge to roll them into, protecting Keith from the storm as best he could. He’d pressed Keith deep into the stone, lying between him and the pounding rain, shivering as it soaked the back of his head and neck. At least it washed away the dirt and blood streaking his armor. 

Lance had done what he could to press the material of his own suit into the wound. He’d carved off his sleeves with Keith’s knife using the flashes of lightning to guide him. He’d murmured to Keith through the storm, half for his own comfort as it was for Keith, trying to keep him awake. He’d kept one goosebump covered arm around Keith’s waist, pressing one sleeve into the exit wound. The other covered the wound to Keith’s chest. His teeth chatter, tiny beads of water catching on the hair on his arms. He grinds them together to keep quiet until his jaw aches. 

Thunder boomed directly overhead making his ears ring. The vibrant green of it against a navy grey sky left him blind. He’d shivered in the cold as the temperature dropped, finally dragging them both out once the storm had passed. 

Under Keith’s guidance Lance had made them a temporary shelter, tending to Keith as best he could. The blade had been narrow but had pierced through Keith just under his ribs. He hadn’t died immediately so Lance assumes the sword hadn’t hit anything vital but Keith is in a lot of pain.

“I don’t know how to help you,” Lance rasps, throat tight. He’s cut apart the bloody fabric of his sleeves, binding the wound but there’s little else for him to do. 

Shadows lick across Keith’s face cast from the fire, illuminating the sweat beaded on his skin.

“Did you see those plants when we came in?” Keith manages. His breathing is shallow to avoid inflicting any more pain than necessary but he still winces. “The tall ones with the white flowers?” he elaborates. “Were they growing out here too?” His voice is tight with pain, skin streaked with blood and sweat. 

“I- I don’t know. Why-”

Keith winces, one hand over the wound. “Looked like yucca,” he says slowly, pain creasing his features. “Might help stop the bleeding.” 

“Or it could poison you,” Lance says thickly. He’s trying not to cry, fingers curled into fists over his knees where he’s kneeling next to Keith. The fire is hot against his bare arms but it does little to chase the cold fear from his blood.

Keith opens watery eyes and looks at him. “Think I’m willing to risk it,” he chokes and Lance can’t stand the pain in his eyes. 

He nods, the movement stiff and awkward, like turning a rusted handle, grinding and screeching as it does.

“Okay. I’ll go look.” He carefully pulls a tangle of Keith’s hair from his sweaty forehead. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

Keith tries to smile. “‘m not goin’ anywhere,” he says thinly, trying to tease. Lance struggles to see through the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. 

He nods, averting his eyes and goes to stand. 

“Wait.” Keith twists, face screwing up with pain as he pulls his knife free before Lance can stop him.

“Take this.” He holds it out in a shaky hand, paleing further. “Cut off some of the leaves from the base of the plant and bring them back.” His eyes squeeze tightly shut as he holds out the knife. “Think it’s like yucca.” 

Lance wraps his hand around both the knife and Keith’s hand, holding on for a moment before taking the blade. 

“Yucca?”

Keith’s arm falls back to the ground like it’s made of lead and Lance’s stomach bottoms out.

“Yeah. Grew out in the desert back home. Used it before.”

Lance doesn’t want to think about Keith hurt and alone out in the desert on Earth, how he’d learned to rely on some random plant for help. He hurries out of their temporary shelter before Keith can see him cry. 

The storm is clearing, icy light painting the desert around them so Lance can make out shapes in the dark. He stumbles, looking for one of the plants Keith talked about. He has to force himself to think through the panic gripping him, numbing his mind. He can barely process what he’s looking at. 

It feels like he walks around for hours in the dark, the firelight from their camp flicking out at him from between the branches and leaves he’d found. He keeps it in sight and finally stumbles into one of the plants. 

It’s as tall as his chest and he drops to his knees, Keith’s knife falling from his hands. He folds in half, arms wrapped around himself and sobs. He lets the panic and fear grip him and hold him tight, lets it shake the earth he stands on and swallow him whole. 

Lance cuts himself open, letting everything spill out of him. One last roll of thunder hides his scream before he sags over, his forehead pressing into the mud. Rainwater drips from his hair, tears falling from his face before he pulls himself back together, taking jagged breaths. 

When he can, Lance sits up, wiping his face and sniffling. Mud streaks over his forehead, getting in his hair when he shoves it back out of his eyes.

“I can do this,” he gasps, staring up at the foreign stars. “I can do this,” he whispers again, voice steadier. He cuts four of the long leaves from the base of the plant, jagged little spikes like aloe catching on his gloves as he does. He brings them back to the shelter, a viscous liquid bleeding from the leaves and coating his armor. 

He peeks into the shelter, the leaves bundled to his chest like they’re the most precious thing. He has to squint against the sudden light.

“Keith?”

He’s lying still, face turned towards the fire and Lance’s heart sinks. 

He hurries to his side, dropping the leaves and setting the knife down. Lance touches Keith’s shoulder, fearing the worst. 

Keith’s eyes flutter open, taking a moment to focus. He tries to smile seeing the thick leaves resting beside Lance. 

“Didn’t have to bring that many,” he teases and Lance’s chin trembles. 

“Just tell me what to do,” he says weakly.

Keith swallows and there’s that pain again. He’s pretending it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. “Have to crush it, pack it into the wound.” 

“How?”

Keith hesitates before answering. “Use a rock...or the knife.”

“It’s gonna get dirt and who knows what else in it. We don’t know what’s in the earth. I am not putting that shit into an open wound, Keith. Is that how you did it at home?”

Keith bites his lip and shakes his head. “I chewed it. But yucca is edible. I don’t know that this stuff is.”

“Fuck it.”

Using the knife Lance cuts up one of the leaves into small chunks, keeping the pieces cradled in his lap, shoving one into his mouth. It grinds to a pulp between his teeth, thick and fibrous before Keith can stop him. It oozes like aloe in his mouth and his face wrinkles at both it and the taste. 

He uses the pulp to pack the wound, holding Keith down when he squirms, chewing up several pieces before he’s satisfied. His mouth goes a little numb but doesn’t swell and he hopes it’s a good sign. He spits the excess fluid and saliva from his mouth.

“Can you sit up?”

“Gonna have to help me.”

Lance gets his arms under Keith and helps pull him into a sitting position to get to the wound on his back. 

He puts another piece of the plant in his mouth, holding Keith against his chest. The leaf bits make his mouth water and his tongue tingle. Keith’s body is limp and he’s clammy with sweat, hot breath bouncing against Lance’s neck where he’s leaning into him. 

Lance pulls the chewed pulp out of his mouth, pressing it into the exit wound and Keith whines. Lance spits again, trying not to gag. 

“I know,” Lance whispers, trying to chase the taste from his mouth. “I know. Just hang on.” He packs the wound as best he can to ensure the pulp won’t fall out, then covers both spots with the bloody fabric, rewrapping them. Keith’s eyes are closed as Lance lays him back down, forehead dappled with sweat. Lance holds as much of his weight as he can so Keith doesn't have to. He doesn't have the strength.

When Keith is lying flat again, Lance wipes the sweat and tangled hair from his face. 

“You okay?” Keith asks, startling Lance. He does his best to compose his face, focusing on Keith’s hair, smoothing it out as best he can.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “My mouth’s a little numb but I’m hoping it’ll help with the pain.” 

Keith nods, his voice weak when he speaks. “It is.” His eyes flutter but his breathing has eased, if only a little. “Glad you’re okay.”

Lance continues petting his hair, not sure what else to do. 

“Can you talk to me?” Keith turns into Lance’s hand and Lance peels off his gloves to better touch him. He pretends it’s to check Keith’s fever but knows it’s not.

“What about?”

“Anything,” Keith whispers, breath hot against the inside of Lance’s wrist. “Need something else to focus on.” 

Lance’s brain runs in circles, refusing to settle long enough for him to think of something other than a stupid nursery rhyme from when he was a kid. 

He takes Keith’s hand, still carding his fingers through his hair, reciting the rhyme in Spanish. Even though he doesn’t understand it, Keith doesn’t mind. He just wants to hear Lance’s voice. 

Lance says everything that comes into his head, poems, stories, more rhymes, anything he can think of. He finds himself singing softly, holding Keith’s hand tight. 

Keith finally drops into sleep, exhausted, and Lance hopes the plant was able to help with the pain.

Lance stares at him in the firelight, tears in his eyes, fingers still moving numbly through his hair. “Please don’t die.”


	2. Chapter 2

The third time Lance’s head drops Keith bumps his knuckles against his ankle. 

Lance startles, dry eyes struggling to focus. 

“Go to sleep,” Keith says softly. 

Lance shakes his head, rubbing the grit from his eyes. “‘m fine.” He puts more dried wood and plant matter into the fire.

“You’re not.” 

Lance cuts up another square of fabric, scooting to Keith’s side and dabbing away the sweat coating his skin. He can barely focus. His brain is fuzzy but he can’t sleep. He pulls Keith’s armor away one piece at a time, setting it aside, trying to make him more comfortable. He should have thought of that sooner. 

Keith finally catches Lance’s wrist as he starts removing Keith’s vambraces. He stares up at Lance, at the drawn fear on his face. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching up to bump his knuckles against Lance’s cheek. Tears flood Lance’s eyes and he sniffles, looking away.

“‘m fine,” Keith promises and Lance cries, shaking his head. 

“You’re not. I should have-” He scrubs the hand Keith isn’t holding over his face, grinding it into his eyes. “If I’d been paying attention, if I’d been protecting you like I should have-”

“Isn’t your fault,” Keith whispers. His grip on Lance’s wrist is weak but stubborn.

Lance sobs, covering his face with his hand. It feels like a fist has been plunged into his stomach, twisting, and he bends forward, sliding his hand into Keith’s. 

“Fuck,” he chokes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” Keith murmurs again, reaching to touch Lance’s hair. His forehead is practically touching Keith’s chest. “My own stupid mistake,” he breathes. 

Lance shakes his head in denial. “I should have-”

“Shut up,” Keith whispers. 

Lance presses his head to Keith’s chest, swallowing back another sob. His ear is over Keith’s heart, the sound of his heartbeat heavy and reassuring. Lance can’t stop counting the beats. They feel like a timer, counting down, threatening to give out at any moment. 

There’s a tired smile on Keith’s lips and while having Lance there hurts, he likes it too much to push him away. 

“Please don’t die.” A tear slips down Lance’s temple and he squeezes Keith’s hand. “I need you to be okay.”

“‘m fine,” he promises and Lance squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his face to Keith’s chest, hiding his tears.

“Just hang on,” he whispers. “I’m gonna get you help. When the sun comes up, we’ll find someone to help you.”

Keith runs his fingers through Lance’s hair, soothing him until the tears stop. His breathing evens out and his grip on Keith’s hand goes slack. 

“Go to sleep Lance,” Keith whispers and he finally does, lulled to sleep by the sound of Keith’s heart beating and the feel of his fingers in his hair. 


	3. Chapter 3

A day and a half later Keith is still alive, a few of the yucca leaves tucked into the pockets of Keith’s belt as they head towards what they hope is a city. Lance repacks the wounds, binding them tightly again.

“You ready?”

Keith nods. Lance doesn’t know how he’s still holding on but he’s glad Keith is. 

“Okay.” He pulls Keith’s arm over his shoulder, lifting him to his feet. Together they stumble forward. They can see some kind of city beyond the baked ground in the distance, giving them hope. 

When they hit the outskirts, both of them streaked with sweat, their throats dry, a figure turns towards them.

“There they are!” 

Shiro turns to where Hunk is pointing and then the other paladins are running. Pidge takes Keith before Shiro can get to them, Hunk pulling Lance into a much needed hug. 

Lance presses his face to Hunk’s chest and cries.

“Keith- he’s hurt,” Lance sobs, clinging to Hunk as everything he’s been feeling unravels. “He’s dying, I can’t-” 

Lance doesn’t realize he’s babbling until Hunk tells him, doesn’t see Shiro and Pidge take Keith to where their lions are waiting. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Hunk soothes, running a hand over Lance’s hair, holding him close. “We’re gonna get Keith into a pod, he’s gonna be okay.” He hugs Lance tight, afraid of the state they’re both in. “What about you? Are you okay?” He takes Lance’s head in his hands, pulling his face up to look at him.

Lance shakes his head, tears streaming through the dust on his face. “Keith…”

Hunk presses a kiss to Lance’s forehead before pulling him back into his chest and squeezing him tightly. He runs a hand up and down Lance’s back. 

“Okay buddy. He’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get back to the castle and you’re both gonna be okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im gonna post this so I don’t forget it. Enjoy.

Lance bounces on the balls of his feet, chewing on his nails and staring at the clock on the pod as it ticks down. 

“Deja vu,” Pidge mutters, remembering the last time they’d all been gathered together like this. They elbow a jittery Lance. “You think Keith is gonna remember this ‘bonding moment’,” they tease. They’re trying to lighten the tension Lance has been carrying for the past few days. “Or is he gonna forget like you?”

“Didn’t forget,” Lance whispers, eyes still on Keith. He picks at a patch of dry skin on his lip. 

Shiro blinks at him dumbly. “You didn’t?” 

Lance shakes his head, biting at his cuticle until it bleeds. 

Shiro frowns, head tilting to one side as if he’s studying him. “So why did you say you did?”

Lance worries at his thumb with his teeth until Hunk takes his hand, holding it tightly to get him to stop. Lance flashes him a grateful smile before his eyes snap back to Keith like he’s afraid something’s changed in the split-second he looked away. 

“Never loved a boy before,” he whispers, heart in his throat. 

Shiro’s eyebrows lift, his mouth opening in a small ‘o’ before glancing at Keith where he rests in the pod. His expression melts into a soft smile. He puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder, giving him an affectionate squeeze. 

The pod rings like a timer on a microwave before popping open and Lance jerks at the sound. Keith teeters for a moment, his eyes opening before he’s tipping forward faster than he can catch his balance.

Hunk and Shiro let him go and Lance surges forward to catch him. Keith is dizzy and disoriented, his weight sagging against Lance as he struggles to get his feet under him. Lance is sturdy and unmoving as Keith finds his balance, pressing into Lance, breathing him in. 

For all his love of the sea Keith can’t help thinking Lance smells like earth, warm cedar and sunlight, bracing. He smiles against Lance’s throat. 

“Nice to see you too,” he rasps and Lance hugs him tighter, face pressed to Keith’s shoulder. 

“‘m really glad you’re okay.” Lance’s voice is all but lost in Keith’s dark hair and if he weren’t pressed so close to Keith’s ear he wouldn’t have caught it. 

Keith smiles, tired but bright, his hands lifting to circle Lance’s back, hugging him weakly. 

“Me too.” 

He sighs contentedly, savoring Lance’s warmth, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. 

Lance finally pulls back and Keith wobbles. It doesn’t stop Lance from pressing his fingers to the hole in Keith’s undersuit and the newly formed scar. 

“You are okay though right?” He searches Keith’s still glossy eyes. Lance has been in the pods, knows what they’re capable of but he still needs Keith to say it. He needs to hear it. 

Keith nods, his brains still fuzzy. 

“Yeah. Just feel like a zombie.”

Lance tries to smile. “Yeah, it’ll do that.” His hand presses flat, sliding to Keith’s waist to hold him steady. “It’ll wear off,” he promises. 

Lance helps Keith sit on the steps, not thinking twice about sliding his hand into his.

Keith startles, glancing between Lance’s face and their interlocked hands. After a moment he threads their fingers together and holds on. Lance’s knuckles pale and Keith’s fingers start to ache but he doesn’t pull away. 

Lance covers his face with his other hand, taking steady breaths and Keith starts to worry. 

“Are you alright?”

“I thought…” Lance flinches, fingers curling into a fist before pressing to his mouth. His voice is a dry rasp. “I thought I was gonna lose you down there.” 

All Keith can do is stare at the tension in Lance’s face, the fear around his eyes. Lance’s palm is sweaty in his. He’s still afraid. 

“I’m okay,” Keith soothes, thumb stroking over Lance’s hand and Lance nods. 

“I know.” His voice is still tight and he drops the hand over his mouth to look at Keith. “But I’m still scared.”

Keith’s eyebrows come together in sympathy. 

“Thank you.” Keith can still see that anxiety haunting him and Lance frowns in confusion. 

“For what?” He says it like he didn’t do anything, like he hadn’t kept Keith alive while they were down there. It’s an argument for another time. There’s something else he wants to address. 

“For caring.” 

Lance frowns, frustrated about something and his hand flexes in Keith’s. 

“I don’t-” Keith starts, not sure he wants to say what he’s going to. “I don’t matter to a lot of people. So...thank you.” His thumb runs over the back of Lance’s hand again and he realizes someone’s removed his gloves. 

Lance looks startled, horrified, offended, and then just devastated. His shoulders slump and Keith realizes just how rumpled Lance looks. His jacket is askew, his hair sticking up on one side from the cowlick he struggles to tame, and his shirt is wrinkled. 

“You matter to me,” Lance chokes and Keith realizes he’s a step away from crying. “God I don’t know what I’d do if-” He swallows the rest of the sentence, tears in his eyes and looks away. His fist presses back to his mouth so hard he bruises his lips.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Keith leans into the space between them, pressing a kiss to Lance’s cheek. It’s soft but full and firm. He holds himself there as Lance closes his eyes, expression still drawn. He doesn’t pull away, just leans into Keith like he wants the kiss to last. 

Keith hovers once the kiss breaks, pulled like a magnet or a moon into Lance’s orbit, trapped in the hold Lance seems to have on him. He presses into Lance, forehead resting against his temple.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut Lance leans into him, twisting until his forehead is pressed to Keith’s, their hair tangling. He stays there, their breath bouncing back and forth, Lance counting the beats of his own heart. His nose bumps against Keith’s as if to remind himself he’s still there. 

In the silence Lance holds on, drawing Keith into his heart and swearing to never let go. 

From across the room Pidge taps their foot impatiently as Shiro holds them back. Hunk lingers awkwardly behind them. 

“Are you two done?” Pidge snaps, shattering the moment. “I’d like to hug my idiot brother.” They scowl fiercely, arms crossed over their chest and Lance laughs, breaking contact with Keith. His lashes are still wet and Keith misses the warmth of him, especially after the chill of the pod. But Lance’s smile is genuine, the anxiety finally easing from his face and shoulders. 

“Yeah Gremlin, we’re done.” 

“Good.” Pidge marches across the room, Lance leaning back into Keith to quickly kiss his cheek. 

“Rain check,” he promises softly. For a moment he considers kissing him properly but holds himself back. 

Keith’s cheeks color, bringing some life back to his face. He nods. 

“Rain check,” Keith whispers back. Lance gives his hand a squeeze, dropping a kiss to his knuckles before letting go and standing. He ruffles Pidge’s hair on his way past, much to their annoyance. They swat at him, ducking away before going to sit next to Keith, taking Lance’s spot on the stairs. They crush him in a hug that’s as angry as it is affectionate and Lance snickers. Shiro pats Lance on the shoulder as he passes, giving him a nod of gratitude. 

Lance bumps fists with Hunk before going to the kitchen to get Keith something to eat, leaving the others to have their moment. Soon enough he’ll have all of Keith’s attention. And he won’t be giving it up anytime soon.


End file.
